


Send Nudes

by friends_call_me_wobbly_hands



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Bad Flirting, Dorks, Fluff and Crack, Gardener Asgore, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Mistakes were made, Post-Undertale Pacifist Route, Slice of Life, Teacher Toriel (Undertale), Undertale Monsters on the Surface, Undyne and Papyrus being Undyne and Papyrus, angry goat mom, honestly it is just a longass self indulgent thing i wrote at 2am, murders, murders were made, pls enjoy, very suspicious bush
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-29
Updated: 2019-09-29
Packaged: 2020-11-01 15:09:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,258
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20817206
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/friends_call_me_wobbly_hands/pseuds/friends_call_me_wobbly_hands
Summary: It is a quiet school day, and everything goes fine until Toriel's phone gets a message, seemingly from Asgore and consisting of two simple words. Which, dare I say, does not amuse her at all.





	Send Nudes

**Author's Note:**

> ey

Toriel stares long and hard at the message. 

She doesn’t have time for this, she tells herself. Being a head teacher, as exciting and fulfilling as a job could be, is also extremely exhausting – twice so if you are the first monster head teacher of the first monster-human school in known history. There will always be assholes trying to undermine your hard work, and douches believing you eat children for breakfast, and cowards who are afraid of the future and will do anything to keep it from coming in their lifetime, and – the paperwork, the conflicts, the unavoidable tensions, it is all hard enough for her to cope _ without _ her ex messaging her out of the blue.

And with such a demand!

Toriel sighs and glares at the screen where only two words shine in their earnest ignorance:

“send nudes”

The boss monster leans towards the microphone, and her face is a marble mask that once made Froggits flee from her very-much-not-neutral displeasure.

“Mr. Asgore Dreemurr”, she says, slow and distinct. “Please come to the head teacher’s office. We have a matter to discuss.”

She sends her phone another furious look and sinks into her chair. What a day…

But seriously. “Send nudes”???

What kind of imbecile would ever think that’s a nice way to start a conversation?

***

“It will work, trust me”, Undyne says optimistically. 

Frisk manages to fit all their doubts in one gesture, the one that makes Sans snicker and Alphys squeak in protest. Then, after some thought, they add that the lack of a heart, eyes and sweat emojis has made the message horribly lackluster and it is doomed to fall short of its designated purpose, making its supposed author the least desired item of the dating market, like, forever.

“Oh?! Go and do it yourself if you are that smart! But let me remind you: I've had one girlfriend in my life. _ One_. _ You _ , on the other hand? _ Zero_. You only went on a date _ once _ and it was a _ playdate _ and it was with _ Papyrus _.”

Frisk squints, wrinkles their forehead and signs rapidly that, actually, make that _ two _ playdates, and if not for Undyne showing up in the worst possible moment Alphys would be long wooed by a certain human who is _ very _ smooth and _ very _ pretty and _ very _ good at flirting, yes thank you, and those were actually _ not _ playdates, and how _ dare _ she say that Papyrus is not a valid dating choice (Papyrus makes a hum of agreement at this), and if anything Undyne is a dum dum who is so inexperienced that she even made the rookie mistake of not adding any emojis while everyone knows the emojis are what makes the messages The Shit. (They spell _ Shit _ letter by letter, very importantly.)

Undyne turns red, bristles and flings the phone at Frisk with the vigor of a very buff David trying to slay a twink Goliath. Frisk dodges with a practiced ease, picks it up and calmly sets to concoct a more effective message.

“I still don’t think it is a good idea”, Alphys says, glancing around nervously. The bushes surrounding them give the five of them some decent cover, enough to protect them against the prying eyes of ever-too-curious first graders, but they are still on the school grounds. Undyne is still wearing her trainer outfit, complete with a whistle she is chewing on nervously, and Frisk’s uniform is not a bit messed up by dirt and leaves they had to crawl through to get to that bushy hideout. The final bell of the day rang not so long ago, and there are sounds of a wild horde of schoolchildren bursting through the doors into freedom. 

“I think this is an awesome idea”, Undyne says, “and also I think that instead of worrying over details you should stick to the Plan. Come on! Where is your inner warrior queen?! Where is your Nerd Flirt Master 3000?!”

“Probably sorting through her fan mail”, Alphys mutters.

“I THINK WE NEED TO SEND HER A GIF”, Papyrus muses aloud, absentmindedly sticking a leaf into Frisk’s hair. He pronounces it like ‘jeef’, but no one has the audacity to correct him. “SOMETHING COLORFUL WITH KITTENS OR PUPPIES OR HEARTIES OR HOTTIES OR WHATEVER. I REMEMBER THE MANUAL SAYING SOMETHING ABOUT GIFS. THOUGH IT MIGHT HAVE BEEN ‘GIFTS’. IT HAD SUFFERED A LOT OF WATER DAMAGE AFTER UNDYNE RENTED IT.”

“Listen”, says the Undyne in question, getting so dangerously crimson that a streetlight would probably feel inadequately pale. “I crylaughed. Because it was so terrible”.

“ARE YOU SURE THOSE WERE NOT TEARS OF REALISATION THAT UNBLINKINGLY STARING AT SOMEONE FOR TEN MINUTES AND THEN SCREAMING IN THEIR FACE WHEN THEY ASK YOU WHAT IS WRONG IS NOT CONSIDERED A LEGITIMATE FLIRTING TECHNIQUE?”

“Are you sure you don’t want a fist in your face?”

Frisk strangles the upcoming conflict in the bud by holding up the phone with a “Sent at 15:32” sign glowing. Everyone flocks around them. A five minute silence ensues.

“…Well”, Undyne says, carefully, “this is very… cute.”

“VERY”, Papyrus says.

“I, um, like your… choice of adjectives”, Alphys adds quickly. “But, um, I feel like it can be… expanded on. May I… maybe… if you don’t mind…”

Frisk nods, shrugs and hands the phone in question over. Alphys starts typing immediately and ferociously. 

“don’t get carried away”, Sans says with the tone of someone who knows exactly what he is talking about. 

Alphys groans something under her breath, signifying that she has already been properly carried away and there is no need to preach to her any longer.

“I just keep thinking about her reaction!” Undyne says dreamily, crossing her hands behind her head and leaning back. “Ah, what a sight that should be! The look on her face! The realization! The passion! The flame!!!”

“I KEEP THINKING ABOUT THE CAR I LEFT RIGHT UNDER A TREE BRANCH”, Papyrus announces in a sad, wistful voice. “AND THE BIRDS. MOSTLY THE BIRDS.”

***

The birds, indeed, are working rather hard over a certain red car, literally shitting on all the efforts of its owner to keep it sparkling clean - unbeknown to Asgore, who only knows that the birds are singing rather nicely outside as he walks down a long, quiet school hall, past the open windows, and the wind flowing through the empty corridor plays with his beard. 

He also knows that Toriel needs him for something, and whatever it is, it makes him just a little bit – well, not really _ hopeful _ . He does not really _ hope _ for anything, but just the thought of sharing a few words about the students or the topiary or the new greenhouses or something equally mundane makes his entire being flutter. His soul rushes up a little. He feels light and young – and at the same time weighed down by everything that happened since the time he really had been light and young and hurrying to the first date of many. But Asgore knows better than to be bitter. He has learnt his lessons; and instead of thinking too hard about the what-ifs he pauses in front of a window to take a deep breath. The passing wind smells like dry ground and chalk.

Why is that bush down there moving so much?..

Ah; but he has no time for this. Asgore tidies up his apron as well as he can, nervously combs his fingers through his hair and beard – feels the tiny bald spot between his horns – sighs and decides he is about as good to go as he can be.

He enters Toriel’s cabinet feeling just like he once did, stumbling to her front door recklessly late with a messy bunch of flowers and fur drenched with sweat.

And just like once upon a time, he is met by an annoyed glare and a foot tapping a nervous wall-shaking rhythm into the floor.

“Explain this”, she says, presenting him with her phone, with the message glowing shamelessly bright across the screen.

Asgore reads it, chokes, rereads it to make sure and chokes a little again.

***

“This”, Undyne says, relentless, staring at the screen, “this is basically a self-insert fanfiction.”

“No it’s not!”

“There is a _ paragraph _ describing ‘her soft yet strong hands’ gently pressing you to her heaving bosom. What the hell a heaving bosom even _ is _ ? _ Why _ is it heaving?!”

“That’s a common romantic cliché!!!”

“YOU SAID HER EYES ARE LIKE TEARS FROM THE MOON IF MOON COULD CRY UPON HER BEAUTY. YOU SAID YOU ARE ‘DEFINITELY MALE’. AND THEN YOU WENT ON A RAMBLE OF HOW HER WHITE FUR WOULD MIX SO ““EFFERVESCENTLY”” WITH YOUR WHITE FUR LIKE TWO GORGEOUS AVALANCHES MEETING TO MELT IN THE FLAMES OF MUTUAL LOVE,” Papyrus chimes in, leaning onto Undyne as if she was an armrest and stealing a glance over her shoulder. “AND THAT IS JUST PAGE ONE.”

“…I might have gotten carried away,” the crimson Alphys admits, trying to crawl out of existence and into a bush. 

Undyne grabs her and pulls her into her lap, stopping Alphys from further attempts to sabotage the plan. “Yeah. Just a little bit. Um… who’s next?”

Papyrus swiftly grabs the phone while she is distracted with Alphys fidgeting in her lap. “MY TURN! JUST WAIT. I GOT THIS. I KNOW EVERY CROOK AND CRANNY OF LOVE! I’VE WATCHED EVERY EPISODE OF ‘FRIENDS’, ‘SANTA BARBARA’ AND ‘CUTTHROAT KITCHEN’. I KNOW EXACTLY WHAT TO SAY! LET’S JUST KEEP IT HONEST AND TO THE POINT, YET SUBTLE. ELOQUENT, YET EARTHLY. A HARROWING CRY OF LOVE, FINAL IN ITS SIMPLICITY!!!”

“You’ve already used ‘very’ fifteen times”, Undyne says, stealing a glance of the screen. 

“…YET LET’S NOT FORGET THAT THE MOST IMPORTANT PART OF LOVEMAKING IS _ PASSION _”, Papyrus quickly adds with fire in his eyesockets, typing away.

“…Wait, did you really watch all of Santa-Barbara?!”

“I DO NOT SLEEP!!!”

“i feel like we should nominate for hugo”, Sans says, lying upside down.

***

“So, how can you explain this?” Toriel asks, towering over Asgore even though by all accounts he must be two inches taller. She holds the phone in front of his face by two claws as if it was a particularly disgusting ball of hair she’s just found in the sink.

Asgore shrinks further, wincing. “I cannot-”

“This is right! You cannot! Since it is the most – most – most glaring violation of any possible rule of etiquette that I can think of! Not to mention that it is… it is the grossest, silliest – did you really think it would work?!”

“Toriel-”

“I thought it was the worst when you sent me flowers without asking me if I was even home, and they arrived when I was out of the town with Frisk, so on a Sunday night I came to a rotting pile of plants on my doorstep!”

“I just…”

“It’s childish! It’s worse than childish! You are worse than a human teenager, Asgore! You’ve made a fool of yourself, and you are trying to make a fool of me, and I cannot even understand why…”

“Tori…”

“Do not ‘Tori’ me, _ Dreemurr _!” Toriel glares at him and points with her free hand to the center of his chest. “How in the world…”

The phone in her claws softly rings out, and she groans and glances at the screen – only to blink and slowly raise her brows.

“…How in the world did you just send me another message?”

Asgore gives her a small, sheepish smile, raising his amazingly phone-less hands.

“Um… this is what I meant to bring up, actually. I left my phone in the garden, this morning… and I haven’t seen it ever since.”

***

“Nice”, Undyne says, reading. “Not bad, not bad. A bit drawn out, but fine for an amateur. I love your use of flowery language, it really brings the message out. One detail I cannot understand: why did you type out the whole thing IN HECKING CAPS.”

“IT IS A CURSE OF MINE”, Papyrus says solemnly. “I CANNOT PROPERLY EXPRESS MYSELF IN LOWERCASE. EVERY TIME I TRY, I FALL SHORT. I WILL NEVER STOOP TO IT, NO. I CANNOT BETRAY MYSELF.”

“Did you turn it on by mistake and then forgot to press the button again?”

“……NYES.”

“my turn”, Sans says, still lying upside down and weakly lifting one hand. Undyne hands the phone over to him after a second of hesitation, and he starts typing away without even bothering to look at the screen.

Frisk signs that it is all fun and games, sure, but Toriel hasn’t replied once, and this is bad news, so they might want to step their game up. They need something big. Something loud. Something like an ultimate attack that brings the boss down. Something like-

“A FUSION”, Undyne says, her eye glowing and her fists clenched tight. “Holy heck YES. We should COMBINE our literary efforts and STRIKE. HER. DOWN. With LOVE.”

“Maybe… Maybe that’s not the best idea?” Alphys tentatively says, wringing her claws. “I mean… life is not anime…”

“Oh don’t hit where it hurts”, Undyne groans, wincing. “Sore spot, Alph. A really sore spot.”

“What I’m saying”, Alphys presses on with a pat to her girlfriend’s arm. “Maybe… maybe it is not the best idea to bring them together, after all.”

“Whaaaaat? They are made for each other! Sure, there have been some… mistakes…”

“MURDERS”, Papyrus helps.

“Some murders. There have been some murders. But come on, it was really long ago and everything. They should move on already. And Frisk deserves a dad too!”

Frisk aggressively signs that they’d really like a monster dad, thank you.

“i could be your dad”, Sans says.

Frisk signs that they’d really like a monster dad who is _ cool _.

“CAN I??? BE YOUR?? DAD???? I CAN BE EVERYONE’S DAD!”

“Papyrus…”

“I CAN BE YOUR DAD, TOO!”

“You’re not my dad.”

“GASP!!! WHY WOULD YOU SAY THIS TO YOUR OWN FATHER?! I RAISED YOU BETTER!!!”

“Says something who has never given me allowance once!!!”

“UNDYNE… OH, UNDYNE… I BELIEVE YOU ARE NOT SPEAKING FROM THE BOTTOM OF YOUR HEART!!! DEEP DOWN… YOU KNOW LOVE ME! YOU MAY HAVE MADE ME CRY, BUT I HOPE WE CAN STILL BE A FAMILY!!!!”

“Aw, of course you are fam, Papyrus. Come here, let me love you, you dork!”

“WAIT, STOP – NOT THE SKULL, I JUST SPRAYED IT WITH BOLOGNE!”

“You mean cologne?”

“SEMANTICS!!!”

“done”, Sans says, holding the phone up.

Everyone else looks at the message sent.

“…‘Hot single dads (me) in your area want to meet you now’?” Undyne voices aloud.

“i added a winking emoji too”, Sans says.

“Do you really think it will work?”

“who doesn’t want to meet 30-50 hot single dads coming into your area?”

“No one does??”

“Wait, wait”, Alphys says, slowly turning red like a tomato ripening in fast forward, “he’s got a point.”

***

“I’m so sorry, Asgore.” Toriel’s paw is pressed tight to her face, and behind the white claws and white fur her cheeks glow crimson. “I cannot believe… I am so, so sorry.”

“It’s alright, Toriel”, Asgore says with an awkward chuckle. He still feels like a third grader who has broken a window with his ball and is now being given a talk by the head teacher. She’d probably call his parents too, if they didn’t pass away millennia ago. 

“The style… everything… God, I should have realised!”

“It’s really fine.”

“I feel so inadequate… I really thought it was you…”

Asgore pauses before replying. His head is turned away, and he gazes upon the quiet schoolyard. The sun is slowly descending to the west, and the air whistling through the open window smells like wet ground and dying leaves.

“…Do you really think so low of me?”

Toriel’s head snaps to him. “What – No, I…” She sighs, a little annoyed with herself, and then she leans on her desk. “Yes, I do, in a way. I suppose I… don’t really know what to expect of you, anymore.”

The upbeat notification sound cuts through the silence. Neither of them checks it.

“I’m sorry, Toriel.” Asgore still won’t look at her. “It’s all my fault. It has always been.”

“Aren’t you angry?”

“What?”

“You never get angry,” Toriel says. Now it is she who won’t look at him, even though his stare is searching. Longing. “No matter what, no matter how much insolence is piled over you. You never as much as raise your voice. Even now, when I called you over this ridiculous prank. I shouted at your face, and you did nothing.”

“Toriel…”

“If you are like this”, Toriel says, with a careful voice that tiptoes around any and all emotion, “if you are truly like this, if you never get angry at anyone and never stand up for yourself, then how… how could you fly into a rage so mighty that you _ swore death to children _ over it?” She finally turns to him, and she’d better didn’t because her eyes are pure rage and grief. “The kids that come here every day… the ones you greet, the ones you say goodbye to… those kids were just the same, Asgore. Don’t you think about that?”

“I do”, Asgore says, simple and rough. “Every single day.” He looks down at his hands, rubbing his fingers as if trying to wipe something off, and then sends her a pained look. “And… that is why. I cannot afford rage, Toriel. I don’t want to be angry at someone’s expense. I don’t want anyone getting hurt anymore. That is exactly why.”

Toriel meets his sad stare with her unblinking one, and no matter how cold and iron-like she seems, she is the first to suddenly look away. “…You never get angry at me, either.”

“Pardon me?”

“You never stand up for yourself, Asgore. Not even to me. You never tell the hard truth. Even though you could get angry at me. God, you could. Maybe you should.”

“Toriel… You know I do not blame you for anything.”

Another notification rings out. Toriel blindly picks the phone and puts it on the desk, screen down.

“Yes, I know. And I hate you for that. I hate you so much for that.” She covers her face with both palms. “If you just got angry at me, once, it would be so much easier to loathe you for what you did. It would be so easier to not think what I have done. What I haven’t done, too.” The fur on her cheeks is getting wet, and it is awfully hot behind those palms. “You know as well as I do that I didn’t do enough. I could have – I could have done so much more for those kids. For our kids”, she says, and her voice trembles for the first time in centuries. “You know everything. You know I let them go even though I knew what you would do. You know I wasn’t quick enough, strong enough to save our children when they needed me most. You know!” Her voice breaks just like she does, quietly and subtly. “You know all of that, and yet…”

Asgore shifts and reaches forward, out of habit, but then his paw jerks back, and he awkwardly hugs it close. “Toriel…” He walks a step closer and sits on the corner of the desk too – the one opposite from her. The desk buckles under his weight. “I know you wanted what is best. You always did. You have always been against that decision, and I haven’t listened… And you stood up to it the only way you could.” He locks his hands in his lap. “Please, don’t blame yourself for my mistakes.”

“So then”, she says, a little watery, “it means I can keep blaming you for mine?”

Asgore winces, but his expression stays resolved. “If that what helps you live on… yes.”

Toriel mirthlessly chuckles into her wet palms. “You are incorrigible…”

“I might be”, Asgore admits with a sad smile of his own. “…I know how hard living can be, Toriel. If staying angry at me helps you, then please, hate me. Hate me with passion. And I will never say a word to you about it again.” 

The phone buzzes again, but neither spares it a glance.

“Do you remember”, Toriel says, wiping her face, “that one time when your father caught us in the garden, making dolls out of his flowers and matches? You told him it was your idea entirely, and when he doubted it you started crying since you believed that we would be put to the dungeon for the offense…”

Asgore laughs, a little startled sound that ends before it can properly start, and the next look he sends to Toriel is full of hope. “Yes, why… Yes, I think I remember. We were making princesses. A tulip for a skirt, a daisy for a head…”

“And a twig for a noble steed”, Toriel finishes, smiling. “God, how long ago that was… You have always been fine with bearing all the blame yourself. But…” She turns to him, her smile a little crooked. “I think it is time you shared something, for a change.”

The wind comes through the window and sends a few unguarded papers flying. “May I ask you something, Toriel?”

“Yes, Mr. Dreemurr?”

“Can we… can we, at least, be friends again?”

Toriel has to think about it, and after a few long seconds she slowly sighs. “Not at once, no. Not right now, God forbid. I am still angry at you.” Then she relents. “But… maybe, with time.”

“I believe we have all the time”, Asgore says, and his heart flutters with joy and grief like a flightless bird who’s seen the sky for the first time in eternity.

***

“Okay”, Undyne says, “I think this time we got it alright.”

Frisk salutes like a seasoned veteran to their old comrade buddies.

“Let’s run it again”, Alphys says nervously. “Emojis… check. Cute puppy video? Check.”

“I STILL THINK A GIF WOULD WORK BETTER.”

“I still think you should get another noogie.”

“Flowery language, check.” Alphys habitually dodges a boney arm trying to break Undyne’s headlock. “A poem…”

“the good old roses are red, violets are blue”, Sans says. He is now serving as a headrest for Frisk, and he seems completely fine with it. “classics. works like a charm.”

“Check. No anime references – okay, one really vague anime reference. Only three clichés. Check. I think this is the best we can get!”

“Okay”, Undyne instructs, still holding Papyrus in a death grip, “hit send before we can think twice!”

Alphys clacks her claws against the buttons. “Wait – it doesn’t send, the signal…”

“Whaaaaat?!” Undyne lets go of the skeleton, jumps up, grabs the phone and starts maniacally waving it in the air. “Oh come on, now? Now of all times, the signal is lost?”

“DID IT SEND? DID IT SEND?”

“I cannot see, Paps – your face is in my face, get off me!”

“Please, tell me it sent… I’m afraid I won’t be able to write another one like that…”

“oh, I sent myself a copy. I will resend it to you for just 500000g.”

Frisk claps their hands and frantically points towards the school doors.

“uh, guys?”

Toriel and Asgore walk down the sand path, lit up by the fading, cooling autumn sun. They talk in hushed voices, and, while they do not look like a married couple – not even a pair of friends – they walk close, and Toriel smiles, and Asgore looks absolutely blissful when she does.

“Oh wow”, Undyne says, still standing upright, half-covered with a bush, with Papyrus and Alphys hanging off her and with a phone held high in her hand. “I think it worked, guys!”

“OH WOW!!! WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT!!!”

“We all did, Paps! We all put our brains to use, and it worked out! Look at them!!! Hey, guys!!! I hope everything went well there!!!!!”

Asgore and Toriel turn around, a little puzzled, and the sight does not put them at ease at all.

“Oh, howdy. Hello, Alphys, Papyrus, Sans… Frisk… Undyne… what are you… wait, is that my phone?”

The conspirators look up at the phone still clenched in Undyne’s hand.

“uh oh”, Sans says.

Undyne opens her mouth and says very loudly, “RUN.”

***

Later, sitting in detention, Frisk signs that, as they think, it was worth it.

“Yeah”, Alphys says, sighing dreamily with her head on her palms. “Those sweet smiles… shining eyes… lips, longing for each other…”

“You should have saved that for the texts, babe”, Undyne tells her with a smooch to the forehead which makes her squeak.

Frisk signs a very logical question: what those two are doing in detention since they are not schoolchildren by a large margin. 

“Well…” Undyne cringes. “One word: Toriel.”

“ALSO FOR COMPANY.”

“Wait, when did _ you _come here?”

“JUST NOW, THROUGH THE WINDOW. WHY?”

“…You know what, I won’t even ask.”

“you’d better not.”

“Yeah, I wo- When did YOU come here???”

“i’m the janitor. i forgot to walk out yesterday.”

“Mood.”

“Oh my GOD, Alphys.”

“Well, I mean- It is, hehe.”

Frisk signs that they are grateful for the company, since no one deserves to be alone. No matter what they did.

They fall silent for a moment, looking out of the windows. For a second, they can picture the two former monarchs, walking down the path together, smiling, as the cold wind ruffles their fur.

Undyne clears her throat.

“Okay, next we have to hook up Papyrus.”

** _“NO.”_ **


End file.
